


jokers to the right

by fiveandnocents



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Established Relationship Sid/Geno, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Victory Gangbang AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 01:26:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14438523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveandnocents/pseuds/fiveandnocents
Summary: Being a middleman for unresolved sexual tension between teammates wasn't exactly on the list of things Sid likes, but it is now.





	jokers to the right

**Author's Note:**

> Here's installment three of this 'verse because I started this last year during the playoffs, wrote other stuff instead, and hoarded this one all to myself. Short and sweet (or filthy, if we're trying to be accurate here) compared to the other ones, but there are more longer, strangely emotional victory gangbangs to come!
> 
> Huge HUGE shoutout to AetherSeer for reaching out to me about this 'verse on tumblr because without them there's no way that I would've found the motivation to finish this and start working on other parts of this series. I could seriously go on and on about how awesome they are and I encourage everyone to read their fic and tell them how awesome they are too

Sid catches Geno glaring at Jones’ back and he has to hold back a sigh. Geno always skirts the edge of too protective to be his watcher, but he reins it in every time, adamant that he won't let anyone else on their team see Sid like this. It’s a kind of possessiveness that Sid doesn’t understand, but as long as Geno behaves, he can tolerate it.

Sometimes though, Sid can understand where Geno is coming from.

It had probably started with Werenski, if he’s really being honest. Werenski is young enough that Sid wouldn’t be surprised if he’d admitted to having a few Crosby posters hung up in his room next to his Zetterberg ones, and it showed in the way he’d touched Sid in the reverential, enthusiastic way that younger players tend to do. It’d been like that with Saad too, because he’s too earnest for his own good. He’d run his hands over Sid’s skin in long, broad swipes while Saad had fucked him like he’d never felt anything better.

It’d been markedly different from Wennberg, who is douchey hot in every way that counts and is all too aware of it. He’d looked smug every time that Sid had caught his eye, and he’d seemed to know every sensitive spot on Sid’s body, and there’s nothing that pisses Geno off more than someone else knowing how to drive Sid crazy. If Wennberg hadn’t been smirking at Karlsson the whole time, Sid is sure that Geno would’ve put his foot down, but as it is, he’s just a mountain of restrained fury in the corner of the locker room. 

Geno's jaw always gets progressively tighter as one of these nights go on, and by now, after half of the Blue Jackets roster has used Sid in whichever way they saw fit, the hollows of Geno’s jaw are deep furrows where his teeth clench together.

It doesn't exactly help that now Dubinsky is purposely trying to rile Geno up, seating Sidney on his lap so he has no choice but to face Geno. 

Honestly, Sidney's just happy no one tried to kiss him this time. 

Dubinsky's thumb flickers over the head of Sid's cock and Geno's eyes soften to meet Sidney’s gaze for the briefest of seconds when he gasps before Geno turns to glare at Dubinsky some more. Sidney can tell that Geno wants to say something—wants to tell Dubinsky to be gentler; tell him that Sidney is too sensitive right now so he needs to let go and preferably never touch him again. 

But Geno's there to enforce Sidney's limits, not his own. 

Atkinson slides in between Sidney’s legs and Sidney pants out a shaky breath as Dubinsky scrapes a nail into his slit before feeding Sid's cock into Atkinson's mouth. 

Geno stays quiet. 

It's an awkward angle. Sidney's ass is tilted back, spread wide on Dubinsky’s cock and Atkinson has to muscle his way between Sid's thighs so that he's low enough to fit Sid’s cock in his mouth. 

Dubinsky hooks his chin over Sidney’s shoulder to look at Atkinson and he must gauge that Atkinson’s good to go, because he starts to gently rock his hips forward, fucking Sid for real. 

Sidney didn't know how much just fucking sitting there was driving him crazy, but he's already gasping and clenching his fingers on his own thigh to keep himself under control. Each one of Dubinsky’s thrusts drives his cock deeper into Atkinson's mouth and he just takes it. Objectively, that's hot. Sidney has a committed life partner and he thinks it's hot. It makes sense that Dubinsky reaches around Sid and strokes a hand through Atkinson's curls reverently, because Sid’s clearly not the only one that thinks so. 

Being a middleman for unresolved sexual tension between teammates wasn't exactly on the list of things Sid likes, but it is now. 

“You're fucking made for this, aren't you?” Dubinsky’s voice rumbles in Sid’s ear, through his body where they're pressed up tight, but he still can't tell who Dubinsky is talking to, doesn't really know which he'd prefer. The idea of being told he's good at this makes heat rise everywhere in his body, but being ignored, being a prop for their pleasure, that's… that's good too. 

“God, you're gorgeous,” Dubinsky pants, pulling his hand back so that he’s holding Sid’s thighs wide with both hands. He’s thrusting harder—deep, quick thrusts that punch a gasp out of Sid’s lungs every time. “Wish you could see yourself, love the way you take it.” 

Sid’s cock stays buried in Atkinson’s mouth, wavering between the back of his tongue and down his throat because Dubinsky won't let up for even a second. Sid can't even help him; the way Dubinsky has his thighs cradled in his palms to keep him spread wide makes him essentially useless, so he can only take what Dubinsky gives him. 

He's sore. Really, really sore. Because as much as everyone jokes about it, he doesn't actually have an ass that won't quit, and he’s seriously contemplating throwing in the towel. But, they just—he hasn't been allowed to come yet, so he's been teetering on the edge of too much and not enough for so long that Sid thinks he’d willingly beg for everyone to go again if it meant he could just come already. 

The zipper on Dubinsky’s jeans scrapes against Sid’s ass, as if the denim wasn't irritating his skin enough. Sid doesn't even know why he has jeans on; Dubinsky might just be enough of an asshole to have done it on purpose, so it'd make Sid’s skin pink up with every thrust. 

He should be annoyed by it, but he's really, really not. 

His eyes drift to Geno without him even thinking about it. It's simultaneously a good and bad thing because Geno still looks grumpy as all hell, but he's also really attractive when he's filled with misplaced righteous anger on Sid’s behalf. 

Sid almost topples over when Dubinsky releases his grip on one of Sid’s thighs to reach out and curl a hand into Atkinson’s hair. They both falter at the same time; Dubinsky pressing just a little too hard on his next thrust, Atkinson able to handle it only because he had pressed his head back into Dubinsky’s hand. 

Sid can feel his cock brush the back of Atkinson’s throat, and he’s so close it makes him want to scream. Geno’s maybe the only one that notices or cares, because when Atkinson’s eyes slide open at the sound of Sid’s groan, his gaze slides right past Sid and locks with Dubinsky’s over his shoulder. 

“Shit,” Dubinsky murmurs, his breath hot against Sid’s ear. The hand he still has on Sid’s hip is almost tight enough to bruise, but Sid knows it won’t with Geno watching, so he relaxes into the grip and lets Dubinsky manhandle him into each thrust of his cock. 

It’s blisteringly effective, especially in combination with how Atkinson has brought a hand up to fist Sid’s cock while he sucks on the head, and Sid can feel his toes curl uselessly in the air, grips onto Dubinsky’s thighs as tight as he can and just holds on. 

He locks eyes with Geno and comes. 

Geno watches him the whole time, face impassive, but with eyes dark enough to pull in the stars, and as Sid comes down enough to feel Dubinsky and Atkinson come within blissful seconds of each other, he’s thankful that there’s so many things in his life that Geno makes better. 

The awareness in his limbs comes back slowly, and when he finally registers the first gentle aches in his thighs, he distantly wishes he were still on that precipice of arousal. 

Atkinson lingers on Sid’s cock, eyes shut as Dubinsky pushes his sweaty curls away from his forehead. Sid lets it happen and relaxes back into the sprawl of Dubinsky’s body. Neither of them are paying attention to him anymore, and that’s just fine, because he’s only got eyes for Geno. 

When they disentangle enough to let him go, he wobbles on shaky legs over to Geno, who wraps him up in a Penguins blanket and shuffles him out the door. Sid tosses a quick smile over his shoulder when a few of them call out cheers of thanks, and he can’t help but notice the way Dubinsky and Atkinson won’t meet each other’s eyes. A glance at Foligno shows that the tension between them hasn’t escaped his notice too, so Sid lets it go. He’s not the captain right now. 

Geno guides him quickly through the twists and turns of PPG Paints arena, even though the hallways are blessedly empty. The moment the door to the Pens’ locker room shuts behind them, Geno pulls Sid into his chest and presses sweet kisses over Sid’s rapidly reddening face. 

“So good. So beautiful,” Geno says between kisses, making Sid giggle and try to wriggle out of Geno’s hold on his cheeks. 

“G, stop. I didn't do anything,” he manages, but his hands are tangled in Geno’s shirt which only encourages him. 

“You do. You let people touch you. Even Savard.” Geno looks at him with wide, fake concerned eyes. “He gross, Sid.”

Sid tries to give him a reproachful look, but he can feel the way his mouth keeps trying to curl into a traitorous smile, so it's not very effective. 

Geno grins at him. “Best captain,” he says, pressing one last kiss to Sid’s lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading <3


End file.
